Blue Lips, Blue Veins
by CallMeDoitsuki
Summary: Germany finds Prussia after the fall of the Berlin Wall, when the whole 28 years it'd been up, Ludwig thought Prussia was dead. Gilbert is severely injured and under a lot of trauma, Plus, having to deal with the case Prussia's missing wife Romana later on, Ludwig feels as if his life is taking a sharp turn to the worst.
1. The Discovery

For as long as that wall-

that dreaded,

horrible,

terrifying,

no good,

very bad Berlin Wall-

had been put up,

Gilbert Belishimdt has been dead.

America said that,

He can't let him live.

That _Prussia was charged with mass murder,_

_genocide,_

_and crimes against humanity._

The thing was,

it was all my fault.

And he took the blame.

All

my

fault.

And _the only reasonable punishment for his crimes,_

_would be death._

I shivered.

All my fault.

My brother's going to be killed.

And I can't do anything about it

I can't stop it.

I can't even show my signs of sadness.

I was at the verge of tears.

Alfred also said that

he would be executed

in the Soviet Union at dawn.

He invited me to come.

I guess he thought I disliked my brother...

...

I didn't come.

I haven't seen him,

in 28 years.

Where is he?

In Heaven, I hope.

But this morning I realised,

he was not in Heaven.

For he was in an abandoned alleyway

in the middle

of Berlin.

Beaten.

Bloody.

Broken.

Alive.

Alive.

Most likely not well,

but alive.

It went through the air

like smoke

from the bombs

that fell

on the day Gilbert

_died._

Leaving ashes

and rubble.

And nothing else.

Like him.

Alive,

Prussia.

Prussia,

dying.

In pain

curled up like a little dog

on the ground,

shaking,

torn.

But alive.

I picked up my bleeding, dying brother.

And all the colours-

the pink flowers,

the green puddles,

the silver moon-

all wash into dull red mud.

And I can vision her here,

cradling him,

whispering Italian lullabies to hush him,

telling me,

it isn't my fault.

It isn't me

who leaves traps for innocent people,

or drops bombs

that fall

like dead crows.

I took him home.

I didn't know

what to do with him.

He didn't look at me.

He didn't say a word.

he was limp.

His eyes were closed.

And that's how it stayed

for the entire time

while I tried talking to Romana.

Her booming, almost pissy but confused Italian accent

rumbling over mine on the spreaker.

And then I hear a thump.

I look over.

The Prussian was on the ground,

a pool of blood by his head.

...

I forgot.

Quickly,

I came to Prussia and tried to tend to his wounds for the moment,

coming to a conclusion with Chiara to take him to the hospital.

And I would meet her and Italy there,

I hung up the phone.

I help my brother,

who was unconscious,

dying,

and bleeding.

The blood reminded me of a red ribbon.

_Here,_

Gilbert said, handing me a ribbon,

a long time ago,

when I was only a kid.

_Take this,_

he said.

_Take this and tie it to your wrist._

I did as I was told .

_Now look,_

_look at my hand._

The ribbon was tied around his wrist as well.

_You'll never leave me,_

_you'll never betray me,_

_you won't forget me,_

_as long as we have the strong bond,_

_that this represents._

_Okay?_

I nodded.

Rain.

Rain.

Dropping like bullets

from the sky.

Rain.

It was on the hospital window.

...It's been awhile,

since that day

that Prussia came into my life again.

The doctors won't tell me anything about Gilbert.

Romana told them not too.

For my sake.

Rain.

I look to my brother.

He was motionless.

He was always motionless.

I haven't seen him open his eyes at all.

Then Chiara came in,

and told me it was time to go.

She had to pry me from my seat.

Rain.

The sky was gray.

When I got home that evening,

after being at the hospital with Prussia for hours,

Feliciana rushed around me

and asked if Prussia was OK.

She doesn't like seeing people in pain,

so she doesn't come with.

_Fine fine fine!_

I told her.

_He's fine!_

Later on Romana asked me

why I said that

when it was obviously not true.

And I told her,

without hesitation,

that

I don't want to tell people

that I am weak.

And that Prussia is not okay,

and that I do sit in a hospital room with him

alone for six hours

and watch him not move at all.

Or why his head is still oozing blood.

Or why whenever the doctor shines a light in his eye

his pupils don't dilate.

Or why he makes those sounds,

those sounds no one should ever deserve to make.

Or why my heart is so low,

that I have believed to crucifix myself.


	2. The Secret

Gilbert spoke today.  
First, the sound was a groan.  
Then a foreign voice spoke in the most broken English I've ever heard.  
_...H-Hello...?_

_...Yes?_  
I sat next to him on the bed,  
and stroked his shiny, silver hair.

_Wh-Who are you?_

_My name is Ludwig, or Germany._

He kept quiet for a minute.

_I-I can speak... R-Right?_

I cocked and eyebrow.  
_Of course, why other?_

Silence shoot through the air like a bullet.

_Do...Do you remember anything?_  
I question.

He shudders,  
shakingly trying to sit up.  
_I-I don't know.. W-Was I s-supposed to remember you?_

I help him sit up on his bed,  
and wrap my arms around him. _Yes._

_Oh..._  
_I-I think... I think remember y-you..._  
_Y-You're my brother?_

_Yes. Do you remember Romana?  
_I look down at Gilbert.  
_She's your wife._

_I-I don't know...  
_He moaned.  
I could clearly see he was in a lot of pain, probably from thinking to much.

I hushed him,  
holding him close,  
trying to be careful  
not to hurt him.  
I don't want to hurt him.  
He didn't open his eyes the whole time.  
_It's all okay now..._  
_I won't let anyone hurt you._

After a long pause,  
Prussia clutched my arm tightly,  
and said,  
_Ivan.  
_-  
Romana came to the hospital late that night.  
I told her  
about our conversation,  
and how he hardly remembers anything.  
and the _'Ivan',_  
and how his eyes didn't open  
the whole time.  
All she did was shake her head like she was hiding something from me.

There was silence,  
that night,  
in the hospital room.  
Except for Prussia's sleeping.  
Until Romans spoke up,  
and asked  
_...How could he... Forget his own wife...?_

_I don't know,_  
I said quietly,  
I don't know how he could  
forget his very own wife.  
I frowned.  
She shook her head again.  
About an hour later she left the room.  
Leaving me there.  
Alone.

_G-Germany...?_

_Yes?_

_Y-You're on me._  
He groaned angrily.

I scooted off of his arm.  
_Oh,_  
_sorry._

His expression was blank.

I still laid beside him,  
though,  
and held his head. _I'm sorry._

_It's f-fine...  
_he said.  
_I-It doesn't hurt me._  
_Th-They tortured me enough th-that_  
_it doesn't hurt me..._

My mouth formed an O.

_Wh-What do you mean Prussia?_

He was silent, fingering the IV's on his arms.

_I-It doesn't hurt._

_It looked like it did._  
_You groaned like it did._

_I know,  
_he said,  
_it didn't hurt though._

I nodded, trying to change the subject.  
_OK,_  
_but I'm still sorry._

He shook his head.  
_He tortured me m-more than anyone e-ever will._  
_N-Nothing will ever hurt me again._

That's when,  
I noticed the scars.  
Mostly jagged ones,  
long ones,  
and painful looking ones.  
They were everywhere on his body.  
He had scars before,  
but not ones  
that looked so purposefully made and irritated.  
He had battle scars,  
well,  
these were not battle scars.

He had one on his neck,  
ones one his shoulders,  
ones that crossed each other,  
even ones that were a few centimetres across.  
These weren't battle scars.

_It doesn't hurt me, okay?_  
He said again,  
pulling me back to reality.

_Yes._

_I-I just w-want you to know that..._  
He took a deep breath,  
and opened his eyes for the first time.  
They were dark grey.  
That's it.  
No pupils.  
No irises.  
Nothing.  
_Okay?_

I just stared.  
_Prussia.  
What wrong with your eyes?_

He grazed my cheek. _It's n-nothing.._  
He brushed his hand through my hair.

_Gilbert Belishimdt!_  
_What happened to your eyes?_

_Germany._  
He said sternly.  
_It's nothing._  
_I told you it's nothing._  
_You should l-listen to your big brother._

_B-But..._

He covered my mouth with his hand.  
_No words._  
_P-Please.  
_And with that, he hugged me. _Please._

I nodded.  
_Oh course brother._  
_No words. __None_.

He cried on my shoulder  
and I rubbed his back.  
_Shhhh..._  
_No words..._

_You sure?_

_Yes Prussia._  
_No words._  
I paused.  
_...but... I love you.._

_I-I l-love you too, brother..._  
And with that,  
I lulled my brother to sleep.

_Goodnight Gilbert,_  
I hushed.  
_Ich liebe dich..._  
_Shhh...  
Ich liebe dich..._

That night Romana came in,  
her face tight,  
trying to hold back the tears.  
And she looked at me,  
with those big green bright eyes of her's. _What are you doing?_

_He was crying,_  
_what do you expect me to do?_  
_Ignore him?_  
I snapped,  
even though I wasn't in a bad attitude  
(I'm always snappy to Chiara).

She had a more serious face now. _Wh-Why was she crying?_

_I-I can't explain Romana, I just-_

_It's okay Ludwig, I'll just ask him later..._  
And I knew  
that she wondered  
if there would be a later for Gilbert Beilshimdt.

I sighed,  
and moved to the chair  
where rain threw themselves against the window  
like suicides.  
Suicides.  
And rain.  
This is all my fault,  
I thought.  
Thoughts.  
I know it is...  
Rain.

I was looking out the window for a long time.  
I don't know how long.  
But when I looked back Romana grasped Gilbert,  
crying.  
He held her close,  
as tightly as he could,  
in which he was so weak  
he could barely wrap his arms around his own wife  
without shaking  
or pain.

I looked back,  
at the rain.  
The clouds the colour of Prussia's hair.  
And I admit I couldn't sleep afterwards,  
for nightmares would riddle me, I know.  
So I just sat there.  
Dreading.  
Grieving.  
Dying.


End file.
